Crazy About, or Crazy From?
by Panduh-Fox-love
Summary: Harry has destroyed Voldemort, marries Ginny and has kids. Then, he wakes up. Dreaming of the future, seeing death in all its glory. He's afraid. He's gone off the deep end. Laughing on his way to hell, he goes to visit Tom Riddle. One-shot. Maybe.


**Short drabble. Might go on, might not. It doesn't really make sense but then again, what does?**

~Darkness~

Harry potter laughed. In the dark room, surrounded by shrouds and persons with masks and wands, he laughed. It broke the silence, the tense atmosphere waiting for a fight. But he didn't fight, no Harry just laughed. He laughed until his side hurt, he laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Potter." A snake-like voice echoed across the chamber, but Harry laughed harder.

He had finally lost it. Gone off the deep end-POOF. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had gone wandering in the dark places of the mind no one ever comes back from. The whole situation had him laughing like he was drunk off his ass.

Sirius- dead. His mum and dad- dead. And soon, everyone else would be dead too. Even Harry. The world was crashing down around him and all he could do was laugh with hysterics and he realized this was the only thing he knew. Peace? What for? What would he do in peace? He would become an old Mad-eye moody like man. Paranoid- CONSTANT VIGILANCE. There was nothing he could do in peace.

It made sense, if you didn't think about it.

"Potter." This time, old Voldemort sounded annoyed. But it was too bad, because Harry was having too much fun laughing. The death eaters around the room slowly lowered their wands, watching in almost fascination as the boy who lived cracked up.

Finally, Voldy had enough. "Harry!"

The silence came back abruptly. The boy straightened slowly, his eyes sunken and grinning like a mad man. He didn't like the silence. Silence was peace. Silence was death.

"Why have you come here? Out of mild curiosity I ask, even though you will be dead in less than a minute." Voldemort sat not too far away from the boy- as he watched with narrowed eyes.

Harry just smiled. "Nice to see you too. Nice home you got here. Rather large though, don't you think?" The teen's head bobbed, looking around. "Too big for me personally. I don't know what I would do if I was in any room bigger than a cupboard. Probably what I'm doing now." His green eyes met Voldemort's, but this time his scar didn't hurt. "Did you know mosquitoes are attracted to the color blue two times more than any other color?" He chuckled. "Good thing you aren't a bloody Ravenclaw." By now, the Dark Lord was beginning to get nervous. It was a strange sensation for him, and not a welcome one.

"Once again I will ask, what are you doing here?"

Harry smiled even wider. "Of course Tom- can I call you that? Well, I will." Voldemort snarled but otherwise didn't speak. "Anyways, something has come to my attention recently." He began to laugh again. "Have you seen it?"

Voldemort paused, taking a deep breath. His curiosity getting the better of him he sighed. "Seen what?"

"The viel."

"What viel?"'

"The deadly one of course." Harry smirked. "You've been dead haven't you? But not really. You've probably never seen it. I did though, just a glimpse. It's gorram crowded in there. Bloody aristocrats waiting for their tickets, clogging the place with children and weird smells. You know, a lot of me is in there. A lot of you is in there too."

"What are you talking about you mindless child?" Voldemort hissed, clutching his wand tightly.

"Mindless?" Harry thought for a moment. "I suppose I am, aren't I? And I thought crazy wasn't contagious. I think I caught it from you Tom." The boy struggled not to fall into a fit of laughing. "My family is in there, you know? The only ones I ever loved." Voldemort tried not to puke as a burst of pity went through him, probably because their bond was so close. He squashed the feeling immediately. Harry continued, this time staring at the ceiling. "My whole lot. Well, cept the Dursleys but those bastards beat the shit out of me every day. I would be happier if they were in the viel."

Voldemort frowned. The boy-who-lived, talking about murder?

"Sirius fell in there too. He's dead now. So is your family. Hey!" Harry looked at Voldemort as a sudden idea hit him. "We're awfully alike, aren't we? I suppose so, if you think about it." The boy smiled. "You know, people are dying. A lot more are going to die too. Including us. Both of us."

Voldemort snarled. "Only you will die Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Not like I care. That's why I came, after all." His eyes swept the room lazily as his eye twitched. He continued to grin. "You know, since everyone is dead, what am I supposed to do?"

"What?" Voldemort started, staring at the child utterly confused.

"Everyone. They're dead." Harry said simply. "Didn't you know? It's true. We're all dead. Everyone in this room." He waved his hands around. "But then it'll be too peaceful. Can't have that. Wouldn't know what to do. All the time spent pruning and plucking and forcing into different pots like a plant. Just for you. I'm like a present. Like a pretty flower, wrapped in a box with santas on it."

Voldemort said nothing, only stared with hard eyes.

Harry continued. "Dumbledore will die too."

"Yes." Voldemort snarled. "Yes he will."

Harry's eyes brightened. "Can we have a picnic?"

Tom Riddle started again. "Potter, what do you mean?"

"I want to have a picnic!" He smiled evilly. "If you don't kill him, I will. If you don't, everything will be ruined. Dumbledore has to die. We can watch, maybe on a hillside with a view of the sunset." He cocked his head curiously. "His blood will be splattered. That idiot muggle loving fool's blood will be spilled to every corner of the earth if I can manage it. No right to touch me, preen me like that. I didn't choose, he chooses for me. Always." Harry's eye twitched. "Him and his muggles. Why should I care? Ever thought about that? WHY SHOULD I?" Harry demanded, yelling all of a sudden.

"Potter! I thought you were loyal to Dumbe-"

"NO!" He stomped his foot childishly. "GAVE ME TO MUGGLES! MUGGLES HAVEN'T DONE SHIT FOR ME, WHY WOULD I EVEN WANT TO SAVE THEM? WORTHLESS PIECES OF ARSE IF YOU ASK ME! AND YOU TOM RIDDLE! WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO DO WITH ME? NOTHING! THAT'S RIGHT, NOTHING! I COULD MOVE AWAY TO AMERICA OR CANADA OR EVEN BRAZIL TO VISIT THAT SNAKE I LET LOOSE ON MY COUSIN BUT NOOOO I HAVE TO KILL YOOUUU!" His eyes blazed, but he stopped yelling so loudly. "I don't want to die, though! So don't you die either, okay? I'll move away, but you have to promise you won't die, cuz if you do then I will too! DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET?"

Voldemort stood. "Potter-"

"Look at us!" Voldemort frowned and stopped interrupting the boy. "Look!" Harry motioned to the two of them. "We're both alive! Why isn't the world exploding right now? No apocalypse? That lying fool, I'd like to rip his face off and feed it to Fluffy! Tear his beard off and strangle him with it! Better yet-" He mashed his hands together, staring at them angrily. "I'll make him LIVE. Make him live while his precious world comes crashing down around him, see the deaths of his Order and the burning of that STUPID PROPHECY."

By now, Voldemort had sufficiently seen enough. The boy was crazy, insane. But something he said made Tom think twice about raising his wand. He hated Dumbledore? He sounded spiteful again muggles? It couldn't hurt to get more information- and besides. The boy reminded him, slightly ever so slightly, of himself. Going mad, because no one would listen to his ranting. He's been there himself, in that dark place. It was only thanks to his will he managed to gain some sense of self and his mind.

Again, a twang of feelings hit him, but he shoved them away. Harry was panting, drooling like a dog. His eyes budged out, his mind lost. Slowly, Tom made his way to Harry's side. He summoned a chair and it hit the boy in the back of the knees, ramming him to the chair's seat. The dark lord took the seat across from him, beckoning to his death eaters. Soon, it was only them- Harry and Voldemort in the dark room.

"Harry. Speak calmly, and tell me what is going on." He bit his tongue to not yell and scream of threaten, but one look at those sunken eyes and his anger vanished.

"We're not dead."

"No, we're not. What is your point?"

"The prophecy lies."

Voldemort started again. What is with this boy and not making any sense? "Explain."

Harry smiled. "He drove me to this, bloody Albus and his bloody stone, stupid cloak and wand. The only thing that counts are the horcruxes." Voldemort flinched. How could the boy know? Harry chuckled. "Your seven, gone. Poof, like they were never there."

"That's impossible."

Harry shook his head. "Snake's out man. She was killed a few days ago. Just before I lost the marbles that are supposed to be holding my brain in place. All seven are gone. Because he said so. His voice makes things happen. But he's broken as well, cracked. We're all alone. So, it makes sense. Get it? We aren't dead. Life is still going. We don't have to be. I want to live a long time, like you planned. 100 years, we could watch Albus crumble to dust."

Voldemort was tired with the riddles. "SPEAK CLEARLY BOY!"

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "My head…is so fuzzy. I can't even understand what I'm saying."

"That makes two of us."

Eyes still closed and breathing deliberately, Harry smiled. A non-crazy, slight smile. "The scar is the key. As long as you don't die, I don't die. As long as I don't die, you don't die. Get it? We're each others horcruxes."

Tom stared. And stared. The boy was still clutching his eyes closed and breathing. Slowly but surely it began to make sense. Of course. Of course, why didn't he see that before? There was just one last question… "Why tell me? Why not continue on your mission to destroy me?"

Harry sniffed. "Albus Dumbledore. Lied to me. Manipulated me. Like a puppet. I was supposed to die, all along. I knew how the story would end, and I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. No one to trust. Can't handle peace. Nothing to do. I get bored so easily." Harry opened his eyes slowly and looked at Voldemort. "I'm scared of the future. I don't want to go. So I made my own. No family, no trust, no body. I hate him. That's all I need to keep moving. I want to punish the old man. Never even gave me a choice. A choice. Never had one."

His eyes flared and suddenly he was animated, but somehow conscious and no longer as insane as he was a few moments ago. "I didn't choose to be the good guy! I don't want to be! Everyone has these expectations and all I ever want to do when someone asks for my picture is beat the shit out of them and hex their limbs from their bodies! I hate muggles, all I've ever known of them was horrid and evil people who abused and neglected me! I was underfed and weak when I finally came into the wizarding world and the bastard headmaster lied to me, over and over and over. I'm fed up with him." Harry snarled. "I would rather die than help that son of a bitch. So if you're going to kill me Tom you'd better do it now. Because if you don't, I will be off to hunt that asshole dick faced cunt sucking pussy mother fucking-"

Suddenly, a sharp hand slapped Harry upside the head and he stopped, stunned.

"That was foul language."

Harry blinked. His eyes were blurry and he realized he had just started to cry. The boy shook his head. "They are dead. I have no one left, and it's because of Dumbledore."

Voldemort coughed uncomfortably. Was the boy really delusional? "Potter, I killed your parents."

"Yeah, because that stupid git had to poke his nose where it didn't belong. He was the reason the prophecy was spoken, he was the idiot who didn't even put a silencing charm on the room. Hell, if I thought someone was going to kill me I might try to kill them first too." Harry blinked away more tears, more lucid than he had been in a while. He looked up in confusion. "How did I get here?"

Voldemort shook his head. "You may be delusional and insane at the moment, but you have valid points." He couldn't kill his last horcrux after all, and if Harry really felt that way about Albus, then he could use that- His thoughts stopped dead. Harry's eyes were watching him. Filled in them were sorrow, pain but just a tiny spark of hope.

Out of all the places, a crazy delusional Potter had come here? Was that really his first instinct? Run to the enemy? Where was his self preservation? Still, he had come to Voldemort. The man had began to wonder why when he decided it didn't matter.

Harry had come to him. That thought made Tom want to squirm and throw up, but the warmth in his body was a good feeling. Harry, for some reason, trusted the man enough to hold hope in him.

Tom struggled for a few moments. Destroy harry-No. keep harry-yes. Manipulate harry? He couldn't imagine it. It felt like, manipulating a young Tom Riddle. It felt wrong. He sighed.

"Potter." He couldn't believe he was saying this. "Don't…worry, alright? Dumbelodre will die, and he won't be able to manipulate you anymore." Tears formed in Harry's eyes and spilled over again. That alone made Voldemort continue. "Idiot child. Now I can't kill you. Neither can I allow you to die. You are my last hope. For now. Until then, you will remain here, under constant watch. For your safety."

Harry cried. And stared. Voldemort twisted and coughed, but the boy- no, teen, said nothing. Finally Harry spoke.

"I don't want this anymore. I want to be free." He sobbed. "The dream made voices in my head, they are singing and crying. Teddy, Remus, Tonks, Dobby. All the blood and pain and death-" Before tom could do anything but flinch, the boy was around him, clutching his shirt like it was the last thing in the universe to hold onto. "Moody, Hedwig, Fred and Snape! They all died, and they are screaming in my head!"

Voldemort struggled to not kill the boy as his tears dripped into his shirt. Harry Potter's head was buried in the Dark Lord's neck, sobbing now incoherent things.

It was ten minutes after that when Harry fell asleep. Picking him up and struggling with himself to NOT KILL him, Voldemort brought him upstairs. He kept thinking about his immortality, and how if he killed Harry then Tom would die too one day. He set the boy in his bed-the closest available- and watched as the boy muttered and twisted, before finding a pillow to bury his head in.

Harry took a deep breath, and sighed. The Dark Lord watched as his limbs relaxed and the teen fell into blissful sleep.

Tom left quickly. He hated the Potter brat, and as soon as he could find another way to obtain immortality he would kill him. In the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen when Harry wakes up. Would he still mutter and speak like he was insane? Would he remember breaking down? And what in god's name happened to him to break him like that?


End file.
